


• Consumed •

by ShesGoneRogue



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Arguing, Armie is a dumb-ass, Bit of a pain kink, Heavy Angst, Like...seriously - OTT angst, M/M, Open Ending, Oral Sex, Rimming, Timmy is a hot mess, Ugly snot crying, Warning for potential whiplash, Weed, more arguing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-17 13:48:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18099725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShesGoneRogue/pseuds/ShesGoneRogue
Summary: I don't even know how to summarize this, tbh. Just...heed the tagged warnings and maybe pour yourself a stiff drink first.





	• Consumed •

**Author's Note:**

> I'm...not really sure where this came from?  
> A couple of firsts for me - heavy angst and written in first person from Armie's POV.  
> (Geez...I almost feel like I should write him a letter of apology for this)  
> Unbeta'd - overzealous italics, sketchy punctuation, and questionable time line are all solely my crosses to bear.

His hair smells so good...warm and fresh like..like  _Tim_. It tickles my throat as he nuzzles in and wraps his arms around my waist. My physical reaction is almost Pavlovian. I hope he can't feel me already getting hard and reach up to stop him before it gets out of hand.

He tilts his head back as I hold it and looks up at me with a slow smile and drowsy eyes.

"What was that for?" my voice sounds thick. I clear my throat as quietly as possible because I really don't want to harsh the moment, though the saner part of me says I shouldn't encourage it.

"Nothin'. I just missed you." He blinks up at me with a little twist of his mouth. His pupils are massive.

"Are you high?"

"Maybe a little..."

I grin down at him and he giggles. I can feel his fingers gripping the back of my shirt, pulling it down and tight across my shoulders. He's obviously not letting go anytime soon.

"Feeling a little clingy, are we?"

He bites his bottom lip and nods lazily. I know that look. He rises up on his toes and tilts his chin up.

"Tim..." I pull back just slightly. He whines a softly under his breath and furrows his brow.

His pout is something to behold. The corners of my mouth tug a little wider as my shirt is pulled tighter.

"I want."

" _What_  do you want?" I tease, knowing full well.

He blinks at me in confusion. "Am I not making it obvious enough?"

I lean down the tiniest bit, keeping my lips just out of reach as I look at him from under my lashes. I know exactly what this does to him and feel a brief rush that the power has shifted in my favor, if only for an instant.

"Armieeeee..." He whines and rises higher on his toes.

There's no resisting it. I relent and let him have a taste, opening just enough to let him feel the tip of my tongue behind my teeth.

He's lazy and sloppy, licking into my mouth in long, wet swipes. My heart starts to race as I feel him getting hard against me. 

"God, you taste so good..." he murmurs into my mouth.

I smile and open wider, taking him in and sucking gently on his sweet little tongue. If only he knew how much I've missed this...missed him. The dreams I've had...the dark moments —

He can never know though...not the full extent of it. The weight of it would crush him.

I have been gone for this man-child from the moment we met, but he remains as unattainable as ever. Something ethereal that floats just out of reach. 

Not so long ago he was just a guileless newcomer. Fresh on the scene...open and grasping for every new thing I could teach him. A force of nature in his own right, he could lay me bare with nothing more than a shy glance and an innocent question...but he is no longer my wide eyed, sweet boy seeking advice. He's discovered his power and knows exactly how to wield it. Everyone wants a piece of him now, and there isn't enough to go around.

I feel him melt down from his tiptoes, his mouth sliding away from mine, and wonder briefly how much of him I'll be able to soak up before he disappears into that other life again...the one I'm no longer a part of.

He's still sharing my breath, but his absence already hurts because I know it's inevitable.

I open my eyes to find him staring up at me anxiously.

This is...unexpected.

"Tim? Are you okay?" I ask, because I'm suddenly  _not_...

"Will you stay this time?"

I'm floored. _Me_  stay? He's always the one to leave...another interview, another party, a plane to catch.

I don't know how to answer him so I simply say, "I'm here now, aren't I?" and look around his hotel room with a casual shrug to hide the fact that I am knocked off center by his question.

"All night. Stay with me.  _Please_."

I search his eyes for...something, I don't know what, and nod silently. All he's ever needed was to ask. I would give him anything -  _Everything_ , right or wrong, if only he would ask.

I feel his hand drift around and cup me, squeeze gently. My eyes close and a low groan betrays my slipping self control.

"I miss you, Armie...I feel so alone."

Images flash behind my eyes of all the people constantly surrounding him now. “You’re never alone, Tim.” it comes out more bitter than intended.

“I’m  _always_  alone...”

My heart breaks a little. I know that feeling more intimately than I would ever admit to anyone but him.

I kiss him again to block the words from escaping my throat.

He moans, and I fully accept in that moment that I’m done for. We intentionally haven’t crossed this line in months, and I’m aching for him. Aching for the connection we once had.

Self preservation whispers that I should resist and deflect- maybe try to get him to talk instead of communicate physically...but I’m weak. Weak for this. For  _him_. I know he’s vulnerable right now...when is he  _not_? But so am I. And I  _want_  to let him in, even though I know what it will cost us both in the end. It's worth the pain.

His hand starts to move slowly, just how he knows I like it.

He whispers against my lips, “No one knows me like you do, Armie...no one.”

Know him? I’m fucking  _consumed_  by him. 

I feel tears stinging behind my eyes as I look down at him, words I'm not brave enough to say balanced on the tip of my tongue. It's just as well...they would change nothing.

As if on cue, my phone buzzes in my pocket to remind me that of that fact.

His soft expression hardens and he immediately steps back away from me.

I reach out to pull him back, embarrassed by the pleading tone of my own voice - "Hey, no... _wait_."

I fumble my phone out of my pocket and make a show of shutting it off while I hold his upper arm with one hand, then carelessly toss it into a nearby chair. It bounces off the cushion and hits the floor with a thud. I watch his eyes follow every move and then come back to mine, brighter and clearer than they have been since he answered my knock.

"Really? You know you're gonna catch hell for that."

I squeeze his arm. "I don't care. I'll deal with it later."

He smiles up at me, but the spell is broken and he backs away.

I hover by the door as he moves across the room and picks up a joint from a stack on the coffee table.

I want to say something, ask why so many, but it's not my place, so I just watch him light up.

He turns and raises his chin at me as he inhales. "Well, come on then. You gonna stand there all night?"

I give him half a smile to hide my concern and kick off my shoes.

He passes me the twist as we both flop down to the couch. There's too much space between us. I move in a little and he automatically closes the rest of the distance by putting his feet in my lap. He lays back and grins at me as I take a pull before passing it back.

"I miss this."

"What?" I exhale.

He nudges me in the side with his toes. " _This_ , asshole. Hanging with you."

I grin and grab his foot to check out his sock instead of replying. They're obnoxious. A garish reproduction of some famous painting. Venus? 

"These are...interesting." 

"Do you miss me?" He ignores my feeble attempt at changing the subject.

"You know I do..." I admit, digging my fingers into his arch.

He groans and exhales a thick cloud. "God that feels amazing."

I smile and pull on his toes.

"I wanted to see you sooner. I tried." he says quietly. It almost sounds like an apology.

"I know. I get it. You're busy."

He snorts and offers me another hit. I shake my head. I'm not really in the mood.

He pulls it back and just stares at me for a second. "Are you mad at me?"

I try not to sigh, but apparently not hard enough, and end up switching one foot out for the other to hide it. "No. I'm not mad...just—" I shake my head, not even really knowing what it is I wanted to say in the first place.

"What?" He sits up and pulls his feet back quickly in one motion. "What is it? What did I do?" Instantly alert, defensive.

"Do?" My stomach tenses at the look on his face. "You didn't do anything, Timmy. Why would you even think that?"

He looks away and gives a stiff little shrug. "I don't know...you just seem weird tonight. And I've been—" He cuts himself off and swallows hard as he stubs out the joint. "I feel like I've been disappointing a lot of people lately, so I thought —"

"What?  _Whoa_. Stop right there. You haven't disappointed anyone, Tim. Least of all  _me_. Where is this coming from?" I lean towards him.

He shrugs again and flops back, rubbing his hands over his face. "I'm sorry...I'm just a mess right now." He mumbles from behind his fingers then turns to look at me with reddened eyes. "I shouldn't have even called you. You don't need this. You've got your own shit going on." He sniffs quickly and then straightens up. "So, new house huh? Congrats, man. Liz must be thrilled."

Wiplash. He's giving me whiplash.

He starts to ramble on when I don't immediately reply, but I don't hear a word of it because my head is buzzing.

I hold up a hand to shut him up and he trails off uncertainly, giving me a funny look.

"Wait. No. No, you don't get to do that, Tim. You can't tell me you're a mess and then not tell me why- and  _fuck you_  for that, by the way. Shouldn't have even  _called_  me? What the fuck?"

I'm getting angry now. I've gone through no less than twenty emotional shifts since walking through his door ten minutes ago and I can't keep up anymore.

I watch his throat work. I watch his mouth twist silently. I watch him sit there and not say a word as tears start falling from his eyes one after the other.

 _Shit_.

I reach out for him, all of my frustration evaporating in an instant, replaced by the instinct to protect...to soothe. To hold him.  _I need to hold him_.

He doesn't fight me when I pull him over to me and gather him into my lap like a child.

"I'm sorry." He chokes out between thick sobs.

I don't know what to say, so I just hold him and rock him until the sobs subside. At some point during that stretch of minutes (or was it hours?), I cried with him.

I cried that I couldn't be there to protect him from whatever demons and disappointments showed up at his door. I cried over the forced distance between us. I cried for myself and the part of me that I had to shove back into a box so many months ago when we had to publicly go our separate ways. I cried for the half life I've been living since he first kissed me. 

His thick curls soak up my silent tears. Always silent because old habits die hard...even now.

Without letting go and giving him the opportunity to see my puffy eyes, I whisper into his hair, "Tell me what's wrong, baby. What can I do?"

"You can't do anything, Armie. Nothing more than what you're doing right now." He pulls back and looks up at me.

Damn.

I close my eyes and try to turn away as he touches my cheek. "What's this? Why are  _you_ crying?"

"It's contagious." I sniff, trying for humor. "But this isn't about me, it's about you. What's going on?" I take his hand away from my cheek and squeeze his fingers to distract him.

He looks down at them and sighs. 

"But it  _is_  kind of about you...in a way. I mean, not all of it, but..."

" _But_?"

He looks up at me then in such a way that all the air in the room suddenly doesn't seem like enough to keep my heart beating. His eyes are galvanizing. I've never seen them so light or so deep as in that moment before he spoke.

"I feel like I'm living someone else's life. It's all a charade, and I'm failing miserably. I'm  _lost_ , Armie...I don't know how to do this without you." It all comes out in a breathy rush, like he's been holding the words back for too long.

" _Without me_? Tim, I've been with you every step of the way. We talk all the time."

"But you're not  _there_  with me. Facetime isn't real time. I'm fucking up and you're only hearing about it after the fact, and then it's...it's just not the same as having you by my side, talking me through it."

I sit back and fold my arms, level my gaze at him as he slides off my lap to sit beside me. "Give me an example."

He snorts. "Oscars."

I roll my eyes. "Not your fault. It's nothing but politics."

"Golden Globes."

"Okay. Wait a minute. Are you counting every award lost as a fuck up because that's —"

"No...that's not what I mean. The question. The red carpet. Don't even try to tell me you didn't see that."

My head starts to throb. "I saw it. You were ambushed. Again, not your fault."

" _Armie_! I couldn't even give a straight answer! I completely froze! How is that not  _my fault_? I'm a fucking actor for Christ's Sake!"

"You're an actor, not a  _liar_. There's a difference, believe it or not. It just doesn't come naturally to you. That's not a fault."

Tim plucks at a hole in his jeans and sniffs. "That's just part of it though." he says quietly, "They want me to create this...this image, but it feels so fake and every time I turn around I'm hearing how I need to do more or, _fuck_ , less depending on what it is. I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't. I can't be myself. If I'm nice, I'm too nice and it must be an act.  If I'm seen out with my friends, I'm partying too much and won't be taken seriously. I'm constantly told where to be and who to be seen with...or who not to be seen with. I feel trapped....like every move I make is being watched and if I say the wrong thing or do something that goes against the script..." he trails off, shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Tim..." I reach out to rub his back and he falls against me, nuzzling up under my arm. I nearly choke at the unfairness of it all...this  _machine_. "Okay, first," I squeeze his shoulders for emphasis , "you need to stop reading social media crap and—" Jesus, I'm seeing red...I can't even remember what else I was going to say. What are they  _doing_  to him? "fuck, you don't have to.... this whole thing is so fucking ridiculous. Have you talked to Brian about any of this?"

"Yeah. He says it's 'all for the good of my career' and I need to just lay low and stick with it until I go off to Europe for the summer."

"But you're obviously not okay with that. Why don't you tell him to fuck off?"

He gives me a 'get real' laugh. "I can't do that."

"Why not? This is _your_  life, Tim. What do _you_  want?"

He tilts his head back to look up at me. "This.  _Us_. I want things the way they were. I just want to be myself...and I want you there with me."

My throat constricts. "You can be yourself, Tim, but you know that always having me there by your side was never going to be an option. Promo was the exception, and we held onto that as long as we could....longer. We've talked about this, Tim. Many times."

"But why did we have to stop  _completely_? We were doing okay keeping it hidden. What little we had was keeping me sane, Armie. I at least had a few stolen moments to look forward to. Now there's nothing - just this 'platonic bros' bullshit. Any time things start moving beyond that, you bolt. You don't even respond to my texts like you used to. Why?"

I feel pinned by his gaze. "Because we  _weren't_  doing okay keeping it hidden, Tim. Why do you think we got called to the carpet about our social media? Why do you think this thing with Lily..." I swallow back bile and look at him helplessly. "I thought that it would make it easier for you to...to move on if I didn't encourage it. I knew it was going to be hard for us both, but things were already being put into place and I didn't want to make it even harder." I need air. I'm drowning.

"I never wanted to move on, Armie. I never asked for this. It was decided for me." Somehow the fact that the tears are falling silently again as he looks me dead in the eyes is worse than the sobs from moments ago. "Have you...have you moved on?" 

God, his face. I look away. "Not possible."

He's suddenly in my lap again, straddling me with his hands on the back of my head, turning me towards him. I have no choice but to look at him, to let him see all the things I've tried to shut away from him written all over my face.

"Then  _why_? Why can't we at least have this?"

"Because it only makes things harder." I grit out.

"Nothing worth having ever comes easily..." he tries to smile and it guts me.

I reach up and run my hands down the length of his back. A vivid surge of memories overwhelms me and I find myself stretching up to kiss him as my head swims with visions of his naked skin, taut muscles flexing beneath my palms...the sounds he made last time I touched him.

He leans into me, keening softly into my mouth and pressing himself against my stomach as my hands slide down to knead his ass. 

He tells me  _everything_  in that kiss, and it completely unravels me. It feels so  _right_. All of the efforts I've made to keep a safe distance over the last several months suddenly seem pointless in the undeniable truth of how natural this feels.

I lift him up and lay him back on the sofa, covering him with my mouth, my hands, my thighs. Every inch of me is screaming for contact.

He writhes beneath me, arching up against me and tugging at my clothes awkwardly as he tries to get them off without losing contact with my mouth. He's already so hard. So needy. His hands are everywhere and I can't think what to do first...but there's something I _need_. Something I haven't been able to stop thinking about for months now...

I pull back just enough to clear my head and focus on this single thought. "Bed. Now." I growl as I shove myself off him before I lose what little self control I still have.

He looks startled as my shirt wrenches from his fingers and nods dumbly as he scrambles to get up.

I can't help but laugh as he nearly trips over his own feet in his haste to cross the room. How is it possible that he seems even more gangly now than the last time I saw him?

His shirt flies in my direction as he falls back on the mattress and frantically wriggles out of his jeans.

He's laughing with tears still wet on his cheeks. Giddy. Gorgeous.  _Mine_....for now.

I drink it all in to savor later as I stalk towards him.

He's already touching himself with knees spread wide before I even get my pants off. Wanton. Shameless.

" _Armieeee_..." he draws my name out in a seductive groan.

I fall over him and seal his mouth with my own to shut him up because if he utters even one more syllable I won't be able to stop myself from taking him before he's ready.

He nearly ends me right there by reaching down to pull me to him, skinny legs flung high over my hips and back curling up to present himself.

I pull back and almost yelp as my cock throbs at the first touch of his searing heat- he's already wet and soft. I should have known what I was walking into when he called....damn him.

"No. Not yet." I choke out and lift him by his ribcage.

He giggles as I toss him higher up on the bed and then crab walks to lay back on the pillows.

I crawl over him, licking my lips. "That's not what I had in mind."

He lunges up and nips at my throat. "What do you want? Tell me. Anything...please."

My mouth floods with anticipation as I lean down to suck at his neck just beneath his ear and whisper, "I want to  _taste_  you."

He bucks up beneath me and moans, nails raking down my back,  "Ohfuckyes—"

I roll off him and he quickly climbs over me, straddling my chest with one hand braced on the wall above us.

He's breathtaking. All open mouth, flushed chest and ravenous eyes as he grips himself begins to slowly feed me his cock.

I make a show of softening my mouth for him, moaning around his velvety head and staring up into his eyes because I know he loves this powerplay. Let him take control for now, because I fully intend to take him apart with what's to come.

He's shaking. I can hear his fingernails scraping at the plaster, his breath hitching as he nudges deeper with little twitches of his hips.

I grab at his waist and suck him down hard, feel him pulse and taste a thick surge of pre-cum over my tongue before I force him to pull back out.

He whines as I hold him there and tease the underside of his plump crown with the tip of my tongue. His head drops back, beautiful throat exposed and working with the low pleas pouring from his mouth. "Oh god...please - fuck,  _please_ , Armie."

"Turn over for me." I whisper against his slit.

His head snaps back up, eyes widening as they come back down to mine.

"You heard me. Turn around."

His hesitancy is endearing as he shakily dismounts and obediently repositions himself without a word of protest. I've only ever done this for him (for  _me_ ) once before and the memory of it is never far from my mind.

"Armie, I —" his voice wavers.

"Shhh...." I stroke the flexing muscles of his thighs with a soothing touch as he leans forward and inches back falteringly. "Let me have this, Tim..."

I can't take my eyes from the perfection of his skin...the way it pulls taut and almost shiny over his sharp shoulder blades as his head drops forward....the tiny sprinkle of freckles, almost too faint to see, at the bottom of his left cheek.

I shift up minutely and work the pillows behind me with my shoulders as he draws nearer.

He whimpers.

"Relax, baby...nothing to be self-conscious about. I want this. I need it."

"But I'm —"

" _Perfect_. You're perfect." I murmur, reaching up to reverently brush my fingertips over the downy hairs lining his crease.

He shudders and sighs.

I pull him back just a fraction more and lean in to kiss that precious cluster of freckles as I let my fingers trail over him to introduce the sensation before my mouth takes over.

He mewls and arches slightly, hungry for this touch even though I know he would never admit it.

This is my ultimate act of worship. Something I never have and never will do for anyone else but him... I  _crave_  it with him.

I hear his breathing falter as I drag my nose over his cheek and my breath washes over his most sensitive skin, making him pucker. His scent envelopes me all at once and I can resist no more. My tongue reaches for him, his taste immediately flooding my senses so that I am at once dizzy and intensely focused on every nuance....soap, sweat, musk, a faintly sweet hint of lube. I feel my cock twitch and drip over my belly as it jerks up to meet his mouth.

He takes me in with a shaky moan as I tease him, circling and suckling around his already softened rim before gently flicking the tip of my tongue just inside. The vibrations of his stifled cry around me reverberate through every nerve in my body.

I'm going to come....there's no way to stop it. It's been too long and this moment is far too intense to last.

I reach around to touch him just as I stiffen my tongue to breach the second ring and feel him instantly spill over my fingers.

He cries out and shudders, his back spasming as he bucks into my hand and against my face.

I strain up, forcing my tongue deeper as he clenches around me, my fingers working the thick spurts of his cum in tight circles around his swollen glans.

His mouth goes slack around me with his panting cries and I feel myself swell.

This is all I ever need to lose myself...to have him shattered at my touch, to hear him cry out my name.

The first wave crashes over me and I feel him close his mouth around me again as I yank him back against my mouth and devour him without mercy.

His cock twitches feebly with the dying pulses of his orgasm just as mine swells and breaks over his tongue.

In this moment, there is no disconnect. No distance. No me, no him...it is my nirvana.

He whimpers around me. I can feel the strength ebbing from his muscles as he struggles to pull me through. I soften my mouth and withdraw my tongue, kiss him with all the tenderness I would show for his lips as the last of the tension leaves my body on the final spill.

He pulls off and flops breathless on top of me, knees giving out completely.

I know that if he were to see my face right now I would bear a more than passing resemblance to the fabled Cheshire cat. The image makes me chuckle and he starts to shift off me.

"No no....stay for a minute." I hold his hips gently. I want to enjoy this view for as long as possible.

I can feel his softening cock sliding in the mess on my chest and revel in both the scent and sensation of being covered in his cum.

He pants against my thigh...I can feel his grin.

"That was amazing..." he murmurs dreamily, his breath tickling the hairs on my over sensitized skin.

"Mmm..." I manage, distracted by the gorgeous sight of his parted cheeks slick with my saliva. I can't help myself...my fingers slide in close and pull him further apart. I need to see.

"Armie!" he giggles shrilly and tries to squirm away.

"Shh- stop. Stop. Let me..." I croon, hypnotized by the way his rim puckers and winks wetly at me. It's the most beautiful shade of pink I've ever seen, and I never want to forget it.

He muffles his laughter against my thigh and relents, but only for a second, then looks over his shoulder coyly at me as he slides off. "Why do you like that so much?"

I grin and tuck my sticky hands behind my head. "Because it's  _you_."

He blushes and hides his face in his arms. It's beautiful. How could I ever have been so stupid? I can't let this go. I won't.

"The house is for the Elizabeth and the kids." I hear myself blurt without thinking. Relief washes over me.

He goes completely still and quiet then lifts his head slowly and just stares at me, lips pursed. For once, I can't read his expression.

His silence is unnerving.

"Say something."

He sits up and slouches over, pulling a pillow over his crotch. "Were you going to tell me?"

He isn't looking at me...this isn't good.

"I just did." Stupid. I regret it immediately.

He sits very still for a second and then gets up and shuffles to the bathroom without another word or so much as a glance in my direction.

I hear the shower start seconds later and close my eyes to fight off a wave of regret before sitting up. That definitely wasn't his the reaction I expected. My feet feel heavy as I sit on the edge of the bed and argue myself into going to him. Will I just make it worse?

The bathroom door is only partially closed...surely that means he wants me to follow? Or does he? I hate this. I hate not knowing where I stand and I've lived in this constant state with him for months now.

I can't do it anymore.

I stalk over, more angry at myself than anything, and shove the door open, wincing as it hits the wall. I make myself take a deep breath to calm down before stripping back the shower curtain.

His back is turned, shoulders hunched defensively. Before I can even think what to say I see him shake and hear a stifled sob.

For what feels like the umpteenth time tonight, I am completely disarmed. I feel suddenly deflated and drained. Had this been anyone else I would have dismissed it as dramatics and left right then and there...but this is  _Tim_. He is incapable of such devious deception.

I step in and close the curtain behind me before reaching for him. He shakes me off, every muscle tensing before he turns to face me with accusing eyes. "Why didn't you  _tell me_? You should've told me!" He shoves me back.

I plant my feet to keep us from both going down and pull him into me.

His fingers dig into my sides and he tries to push away by headbutting my chest. He's stronger now, but still no match for me. I hold him tighter until he stops struggling, biding my time before I speak.

"Would it have made a difference?" I ask quietly.

He looks up at me. "Fuck you.  _Yes_. Yes, it would've made a fucking difference."

I swipe wet curls back from his forehead. "I'm sorry."

He softens a little. "Why do I feel like you intentionally hid it from me?"

"I didn't really hide it, I just omitted it from our conversations." Yeah, no...that was definitely not the right thing to say.

His eyes darken again momentarily, but all the fight seems to have left him. He shakes his head slowly and looks at me like I'm simple as I let him go. "See? This is all part of it." He jabs at the middle of my chest with one finger. "We used to share these things....now you're hiding them."

"I'm not - Jesus, I'm not hiding things from you, Tim. Or at least I...fuck....maybe I was, but it's not what you think."

"How do you even know what I think, Armie? How  _could_  you? You never even asked- you just told me how things were gonna be. You and Brian. Evelyn. You all seem to think you know what I need more than I do. Don't I get a say in any of this?!" 

"Of course you—"

" _Bullshit_! Just an hour ago you were telling me that this is  _my_  life and asking me what _I_  wanted, but all this time you've been hiding shit from me that would have made it so much easier for  _me_  to decide!" He screeches, his face crumbling more with every word.

Guilt punches me in the stomach and I gently pull him against me again. "I'm so sorry...I'm so sorry, Tim." I bury my face in his wet hair as he sobs against me. "Please, forgive me."

He squeezes me tight and then shoves himself back with a loud sniff. "I'm not sure I want to forgive you right now, Armie. I'm so sick of being 'handled', and now I find out you've been doing it too." His voice is so flat...it frightens me.

"I'm not!" I grab his shoulders and make him look at me directly as he starts to turn away. "I'm not, Tim...I promise you."

"Then why did you do it? Why did you walk away? And why would you hide something this big from me?"

He's shivering.

I reach around him to turn the hot water up and rub his arms while I try to sort my thoughts into coherent sentences.  "I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to worry." God, it sounds even more lame than it did in my head. "This isn't a bad thing." I rush to clarify when his brows start rising. "It's been a long time coming and...and you've got so much on your plate right now. I didn't want to add to it."

"What does that even mean?  _Fucks sake_ , Armie. You're telling me your marriage is ending and you didn't think that maybe that's relevant to us? To what we—?" He stops suddenly, his eyes widening in panic. "Did...did I cause this?"

 _Shit._ "This is exactly why I didn't say anything. I knew you would think that and I knew you would also drop whatever you were doing to be here." I brush some water from his cheek and continue on more gently. "We're trying to keep this quiet as possible...for many reasons."

"But...you don't have to go through this  _alone_ , Armie. Why wouldn't you want me to be there for you? That doesn't make any sense."

"Tim, can you imagine what the media would do with this if they found out about the separation and then you suddenly showed up again?"

"But I'm here  _now_ , and I haven't even seen anything about you and Liz in the media. Nothing at all. And we've been careful, why would it even make a difference if we're seen together after all this time?"

"Tim, it takes so little to stir up speculation, especially in situations like this where there have already been rumors. It could hurt your career."

"But how would —? I don't understand."

I pick up the shampoo for something to do to stop my hands from shaking and take a breath as I start to smooth it into his hair. "Think about it, Tim." I start calmly, "I tell you what's happening, you show up to be there for me and we get papped hanging out. Innocent enough...but the next day something gets leaked about my separation and suddenly those pap pics aren't nearly as innocent anymore. Old rumors resurface. New rumors start spinning. You would be crucified in the tabloids for being a homewrecker. I can't...I couldn't risk that. I would never."

I felt him starting to relax as I worked the lather into his hair and explained it to him, but he suddenly reaches up and grabs my wrist to halt my efforts as soon as I finish speaking.

"Stop. That's fucked up, Armie. I mean, I see where you're coming from...but did you not think that maybe  _I'm_  willing to take that risk?"

"I couldn't let you." I say more firmly than I probably should have.

His face screws up and he steps back under the water, roughly scrubbing at his hair to rinse away the shampoo.

I stand there and stare at my hands, not knowing what to do with them...with myself. All of my good intentions are starting to feel like a major cluster fuck, but I don't feel like I can explain them any more rationally than I already have. My defense has fallen flat.

He suddenly bursts out from beneath the water and swipes at his face before squaring up to me and looking me dead in the eyes. "Let me...you couldn't _let me_?" I can see a vein throbbing at his temple. "I'm a grown man, Armie." He grits his teeth around every word. "I'm so fucking  _sick_  of everyone else getting to decide what's best for me." he yells, yanking the shower curtain back. He stomps out and grabs a towel, leaving me standing there with soapy hands wondering what the fuck just happened. 

I turn to him stupidly, dripping bubbles, "Tim, wait..."

He just shakes his head at me, throws the towel against the wall and stalks out.

 _Fuck_. I try to convince myself that it's wisdom and not cowardice that makes me stay in the shower and take longer than necessary to clean up...maybe the extra time will give him a chance to calm down.

I take a deep breath as I reluctantly dry off and wrap a towel around my waist, bracing myself for round two.

He sits in his boxers, curled up tightly in one corner of the sofa, and stares at me almost coldly as I walk over and sit down. I leave  plenty of space between us this time.

"Did you think, even for a second, that knowing this might have given me some hope? Something to cling to?" he asks quietly.

I look down at my hands between my knees and sigh, because I know the next thing I have to say is going to hurt us both. "What hope can there be, Tim? This doesn't change anything. We can never be together in the way we want."

"Maybe not  _now_...not yet, but we could see each other more often, and in time maybe it won't matter if we kept it quiet."

I turn to look at him. "Why would you even  _want_  that?" I ask sadly. "Going back to hiding on top of everything thing else that's being asked of you right now." 

He crawls over to me and wraps his arms around my waist, laying his cheek against the back of my shoulder. "Because even though you're a stubborn, know-it-all asshole,  _this_  would be worth it." he grumbles. 

I know he's still mad, but I'll take it.

"We've done it before, but it would be different this time. Now you don't have anyone to answer to but yourself."

Would that that were true. I sigh and cover his hands with mine, soaking up his warmth. "Tim, we tried that and it didn't work. I saw how anxious you were...you were shrinking right before my eyes, measuring every word and —"

"Shut up. God, just... _shut up_!" He bangs his forehead against my shoulder blade and then sits up, shoves me back against the cushions, and gets up to pace in front of me. "Will you just  _listen_  to me, please? Actually  _hear_  what I'm saying without formulating a counter argument while I'm still talking for fucks sake!?"

I nod dumbly and self consciously tug at the towel around me.

He notices and seems to shake himself, moves away to put more distance between us.

"All of that anxiety that you saw was never about hiding from the public. It was about you and  _Liz_. It was about how guilty you acted whenever the three of us were together...the groping and praising like you had to make up for even looking in my direction. You don't think I saw it tearing you apart? I was trying so hard not to - not to  _out_  us to her, but you were giving it all away by your actions. I finally realized that it never really mattered. That became clear to me at the Oscars. She knew. Fuck, maybe she's  _always_  known, but all I could do was try not to make it worse, so, yeah, I was stressed and maybe I didn't handle it as well as I could have. Austin was proof positive of that. It was  _killing_ me to hold back when during the entire promo it had been second nature to just say exactly what I felt." He stops and whirls around to face me. "When did she figure it out?"

I shrug helplessly. "I think she's always suspected. Even before we left Crema."

He looks stunned and slowly sinks into the chair behind him. "Fuck....seriously?"

I nod. "But what you're not understanding is that things were already in motion even then, before I left for Crema. We were trying, but..."

He looks confused. "But, that doesn't- she was already pregnant with Ford..."

"Like I said," I shrug again, "we were trying."

He swallows hard, his face blanching. "And then I came in and—"

I cut him off, closing the space between in two steps to kneel down in front of him before he can finish. "And then  _nothing_ , Tim. Don't you understand? This isn't  _on_  you. You weren't the catalyst. My marriage was already breaking apart before we even met, and part of me not telling you about it was that I never, ever wanted that idea to enter your head.  _Tell me you understand that_."

He nods silently, but I can see that he's still trying to process it.

"It's fucked up. _I_ fucked up. I never should have kept it from you, but I had the best intentions. It was never about controlling you. It was about trying to protect you. To keep  _my_  mess from fucking up  _your_  life. Can you see that?"

"But I want you, Armie. All of you...mess included. Can't _you_  see  _that_?"

I shake my head and avert my eyes. "You don't know what you're asking for."

"Fuck you."

I look back up at him and his face is so twisted in obvious pain it's almost unrecognizable.

"You think I don't know what I want?" he asks shakily.

"That's not what I said." I hold his slim hips and stare him in the eyes, willing him to understand.

"That's exactly what you just said. It's what you've been saying this whole time...distancing yourself more and more, keeping things from me. You don't trust me enough to know my own mind. To know what I want and make my own choices."

I'm almost too stunned to reply. Have I been doing that? Taking the decisions out of his hands? I thought I was protecting him, but now I'm not so sure. I swallow back a swell of self hatred so intense it actually makes me nauseous. What have I done? To him...to myself? To our chances of ever —

"Armie..." He reaches up and takes my face between his hands, his eyes softening. "I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you since the first time I heard you laugh. It's been nearly  _three years_ , and I've been patient, but when are you going to stop running from us? Don't you want me?"

I nod tearfully and slip from his hands, sinking down to his lap to bury my face against his soft belly as my throat tightens with impending sobs. There's no holding it back.

His hands tangle in my hair, alternately tugging at my roots and petting me softly as I let go. He doesn't say a word, just holds me quietly until I can breathe again.

When I finally manage to pull myself together, I push up to face him again. "I'm so sorry, Tim. I really thought I was doing what was best for you...for us. I never meant...I never wanted..." I don't know how to finish.

"How is  _this_  better?" he asks in a broken whisper.

I shake my head and drop my eyes again. It's  _not_  better. It's hell. I'm miserable. He's miserable. And for what? All for the sake of saving face?

"Are you not mine?"

I nod dumbly.

"And am I not yours?"

I look back up at him and search his face, not knowing how to answer.

"So help me god, if you say you don't know after everything I've said tonight...." he warns when I don't respond.

I can feel my face crumbling again. I nod weakly.

"Then stop fighting it, Armie. Stop fighting  _me_."

"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry...." It's the only thing I'm capable of saying at this point.

He silences me with his lips...softly, gently. "Don't be sorry. Just be mine." he whispers between tender kisses.

I pull his hips closer to the edge of the chair and kiss him back harder, channeling all of my frustration at what I've done into making his mouth mine again. He whimpers under the assault and I push him down, feel him arching up against my stomach, his hands tangled in my hair. It's heaven. Every touch feels like a weight lifted from my shoulders. All this time,  _this_  is where I belonged....where he belonged. The echo of 'so many days wasted' rings in my head and I dislodge my lips to confess the truth I've known all along, but was too stubborn to admit. "I'm yours..." 

He pushes me back from him and looks up at me with renewed heat in his eyes. "Show me."

I leverage up to my feet and reach for his hand to pull him behind me, dropping my towel as we near the bed. When I release his hand and turn to face him, he's just inches away, hands already raised to pull my mouth down to him.

His kiss leaves no uncertainty in what he's asking for, and I'm ready for it.  _Starving_  for it.

I can feel every fiber of my being calling out to him as I soften my mouth and let him take what he needs...what we both need.

When he pulls away, we're both breathless and hard. I can see his pulse in his throat.

I lower myself to the edge of the bed, keeping my eyes on his as I reach for his boxers and slide them down. I only hesitate for a moment, my mouth watering at the thought of taking him in as his cock springs free and bobs enticingly just inches from my face, but I know we're beyond that now. This isn't just about pleasure. This about coming together. This is about reforging the connection we once had. Neither of us is in doubt that it's still there, but I'm overwhelmed with the need to prove to him that I will never try to break it again.

I rise back up and push myself back onto the bed. "How do you want me?"

He crawls over me on all fours, kissing his way up my stomach and chest. "Just like this..."

His damp hair tickles my throat, but the heat of his mouth distracts me from reacting with a laugh. I wrap my arms around him and pull him down flush against me, opening my legs to let him slip between them.

He moans and shudders. I can feel his cock twitching against mine and want nothing more than for him to take me right now.

"I need you." he moans, taking the words from my mouth.

Before I can respond he's already reaching over to the bedside table and sitting up between my thighs with a bottle of lube. I can see that his hands are shaking and my instinct to take over, to dominate and give him the peace of surrender flares up hot and intense...but on a deeper level, I know that's not what he needs right _now_.

I open my legs wider as I watch him, bending my knees and unabashedly putting myself on display, arms outstretched towards him. "You have me..."

I can see the shift in his demeanor as my words resonate. He leans over me, hand no longer shaking and his gaze hot and steady as his fingers slide down to me.

He's so gentle, but not the least bit hesitant with his touch, his nimble fingertips circling with almost teasing pressure. 

My mouth falls open with a soft gasp and he's right there above me, smiling down and breathing raggedly against my open lips. "Mine." he whispers.

I grip his bicep next to my head as he braces himself above me and starts to push in with steady, rhythmic nudges. It's all I can do not to beg and plead as I curl my spine and offer myself to him.

He kisses me with lapping tongue and nipping teeth, eating up every sound he draws from me as his finger sinks deeper. He's so tender...considerate. I don't deserve it. Our conversations tonight swirl in my head and I start to whimper. I want it to _hurt_. That's what I deserve.

"Armie?"

I open my eyes to find his flicking between mine questioningly.

"More." It's all I can manage.

His brows pinch slightly, but he gives me what I ask for even as I hiss at the stretch and burn of another finger fighting against the involuntarily clench of my muscles. It hurts. God it  _hurts_ , but it's perfect. He soothes me with a kiss and I feel the strain slowly dissipate from every muscle in my body.

He groans in response to my softening. I can feel his tension grow even as my own body becomes more pliant beneath him. His cock is rock hard against the back of my thigh and I curl my calf around him to encourage him to grind.

"Tim...fuck....yes..." I watch his eyes close and forehead crease as he moves faster, his dick sliding wetly against my skin with every matching thrust of his hips to his fingers squelching obscenely inside me. I think to myself that I could watch him like this for hours...blissed out, stretching me, chasing his own pleasure...and then he grazes over my prostate and I see stars —

"I want you inside me...." I pant, hardly recognizing my own voice.

He stops grinding against me and pulls back with dazed eyes. Without a word, he withdraws his fingers and I feel him shift to slick himself up, then I feel the exquisite heat and pressure of his cockhead against me and I'm spinning out. I should be embarrassed at the sensation of my body sucking at him, pulsing at the slightest pressure, but I'm too needy to care.

He pauses, biting his lip and squeezing his eyes shut just as he breaches me.

The stretch is almost unbearable. I knew I wasn't ready, but there's no going back now. The price of my greed.

"Please don't stop, baby...please don't stop..." I plead, pulling at him to get past that initial burn.

"You're so tight...it almost hurts." he winces.

"Kiss me." 

He folds down over me, mouth open and trembling, brow furrowed....I lick over his bottom lip. "Yours." I whisper. His eyes fly open and he crushes my mouth with bruising force as he starts to move more aggressively, his hips and tongue in sync. 

I feel myself melting, opening up for him with a rush of liquid heat.

We stop kissing and just stare at each other for a moment once he's fully inside me, savoring the perfection of it. I can feel his heartbeat hammering against my chest and wonder if he can feel mine matching the frantic pace of his own.

"I love you—"

We say it in the same instant and smile stupidly at each other as he begins to move subtly again.

"I mean it...I'm yours..." I feel an intense need to say it again before his movements render me incapable of speech. The pleasure is already almost too much. Just the stretch of having him inside me is making me dizzy, and I know once the friction starts I won't be able to form a coherent thought, much less speak it.

"I know..." he smiles softly and kisses the corner of my mouth, "...but just the same, I'm going to remind you." His smile takes on a sharper edge as he pulls out almost completely and then rams back in with a little grunt. The pleasure is all too brief as he skims over my prostate and it leaves me mewling for more.

"Oh, fuck...do that again..." I whine, curling up and gripping a handful of pillow above my head.

He leans down and brushes my lips with his while one hand slides up my arm and pins my wrist. "Do  _what_  again?" he purrs, his hips circling slowly, barely pulling out at all.

 _Fuck_. _me_. I'm speechless. I've so rarely seen him like this. It's absolutely taken my breath away the few times he's shown me this side of himself, and now...to see it again after so long stuns me. This is not my soft, submissive boy - the hesitant, giggly lover who has so often yielded to my lead.  

"Fuck... _please_..." I beg, all shame and self consciousness cast aside in the fierce heat of my burning need. I want him to take. Take it all. Leave nothing but a scorched shell.

"You want me to  _fuck_  you?" he teases, licking his lips as he pulls back to smile wickedly, his eyes dark and knowing.

I feel a bead of sweat trickle down my temple as I focus on his red lips and squeak out a soft 'yes'.

He gives me tiny little thrusts as leans down close to my ear, "I want to hear you  _say it_."

"Oh god, Tim...please...fuck me." I moan shamelessly, trying to shift beneath him, my knees inching higher and higher, free hand gripping his ass in an effort to get him to move.

He obliges with a swift jab and I feel his teeth clamp onto my ear lobe and hear a soft little growl just seconds before he slides down and bites my neck hard with the next urgent thrust.

It hurts like a motherfucker and makes my cock jump between us. I'm so gone for it...I silently pray that he drew blood. "Yes." I urge him on, flexing my wrist in his grip to goad him into taking more control.

He reaches down and pulls my free hand from his ass, forcing it up to join the other before giving me another quick jab. There's no possible way he can hold me with one hand, but the very idea of him trying to turns me on beyond measure.

He looks down at me and smirks as I try to curl my spine up even more, obediently keeping my wrists together in his bony grip above my head as he starts thrusting in earnest, the smack of skin on skin punctuating the spaces between my needy moans.

He's beautiful. Glorious. Eyes almost wild and lips so wet he's in danger of actually drooling on me. I don't care. I'll take it. I'll take all of it. I want him to leave me used and destroyed, covered in anything he'll give me.

I open my mouth to try and say as much, but feel his other hand settle on my chest just below my throat and the words evaporate.

"Shhh....I know what you need, Armie..." he purrs, pausing his motions as his hand slides further up. He holds my gaze and bites his lip at my quiet gasp when his fingers find their place around the sides of my neck.

"Let go." he whispers, his fingers tightening by fractions a he slowly builds his rhythm again.

I have never come untouched in my life and doubt that it's actually possible, but as he slides over my prostate repeatedly, building up to a punishing pace with my throat squeezed in one delicate hand, he proves me wrong....so wrong.

I have a split second to be grateful that his grip is choking off any undignified sounds I might make before everything goes white and my ears start ringing. I feel him release the pressure just as the first wave crashes over me and fills the tight space between us.

He seems to flex and expand above me before his weight lands fully on top of me, his wet mouth pressed against my neck just below my ear.

"Oh goddamn... fuck-  _Armie_!"

I feel him swell against my clenching muscles and pant urgently before he can move to pull out. "No - stay!"

He shudders and goes rigid just as I peak, my body clamping down around him, pulling him deeper. I feel his answering twitches as he begins to fill me and hear him calling my name under his breath.

It seems to go on forever. I can't breathe, but he's right there with me, panting nonsense into my ear as he begins moving gently with the softer ebbs and flows of the aftershocks.

His hand slides away from my wrists and down into my hair, finally allowing me the freedom to hold him against me.

I wrap arms and legs around him, trying everything in my power to absorb him into me as I come down.

It's only then that I realize I'm crying.

Timothée is peppering kisses along my neck, over my cheeks and eyelids, murmuring softly, "It's okay. I've got you...I've got you."

I can't look at him. I have no idea what's come over me and start to panic that he's going see me for the basket case I've become in our time apart.

"Armie. Hey. Look at me." he pleads as I let my limbs go loose.

It takes a tremendous amount of effort, but I finally meet his eyes.

What I see there shatters what's left of my composure.

"You're okay. I love you...I love you so fucking much." His eyes are so soft as he leans down to kiss me.

I sob into his mouth, helpless to stop the flood of an emotion I can't even name from ripping me apart. It must have been awful for him...all that snot, the thick spit that comes with crying, but he kisses me through it all and only pulls back to look down at me once I've calmed.

"God, I'm a fucking mess." I hiccup.

"But you're  _my_  mess." He smiles.

I roll my eyes and try to smile back. "Are you sure you're ready for this? I'm not exactly at my best right now."

"Then that makes two of us. I've been a wreck for months, Armie..." He wipes the snot from my upper lip and kisses the corner of my mouth again. 

I don't want him to go, but he slides out and rolls off to lay beside me breathing heavily. I reach for his hand and turn to look at him just as he does the same.

It's not enough. Feeling the need to make more apologies, I roll onto my side to face him fully and reach to pull him against me. "I'm so sorry that I added to everything you've been going through..." I whisper against the curve of his shoulder.

I feel his mouth in my hair and the heat of a deep sigh before he speaks. "I don't want anymore apologies, Armie....just make me one promise."

I pull back to look at him. "Anything."

"Don't ever take yourself away from me again...don't ever hide from me. I can't be without you."

"I won't. I promise."

He leans in to kiss me and then turns over to mold himself against my shape ...always my little spoon.

I kiss the back of his neck and breathe him in, wondering how I could ever have thought denying needing this just as much as he does was for the best. "Tim..." My thoughts are already racing ahead to what making that promise actually means. "...you know this isn't going to be easy, right?"

He pulls my arm tighter around him and snuggles back against my chest with a little hum of contentment. "I stand by what I said earlier....this is worth fighting for." He already sounds like he's drifting.

I inhale the sweetness at the nape of his neck deep into my lungs once more and finally exhale for the first time in months, "I know it is, baby..."


End file.
